


It's Such A Waste

by starrylitme



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa Zero, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Canon, Childhood Friends, Complicated Relationships, Corruption, Despair, Hope vs. Despair, M/M, Mental Instability, Non-Graphic Violence, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unreliable Narrator, kamukoma week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 03:30:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: “Despair. Hope. So boring. But it might be something you want to see, Nagito. And that is all I care for.”Kamukura Izuru doesn't feel anything except resentment for everything and everyone else. Such resentment is kindled while his feelings for that wayward childhood friend of his remain. Predictably, this is a dire descent.





	It's Such A Waste

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what happened.
> 
> So, like, the Day 1 Prompt for this KamuKoma Week (which I'm not running this time) was, uh, Childhood Friends/Soulmates with the alternate prompt of Hope/Despair. Because I'm a genius, I thought it'd be fun to combine them and just...see what happened.
> 
> Kamukura's a fascinating character to just explore, even in "human" (?) aus. I thought it'd be fun to write out his fall to despair under these circumstances. So this turned out extremely weird but, y'know, interesting. I would hope. As a result it's more character-focused than ship-focused but I tried to remedy that by having the relationship be something that Kamukura actually fixates on a lot. Komaeda's somehow just more unfortunate even though he has one friend. Yeah.
> 
> Anyway. It's probably weird to read but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I swear not all of the fics I wrote for the week are like this, for what that's worth.

“Kamukura-senpai, was it?”

Her smile is bright and cheerful, twisted like a carnivorous plant. Like any other predator, she flashes her teeth.

“I’ve heard about you,” she says, humming. “Quite the lone wolf, eh?”

“Why is this your concern?” His own gaze narrows. “There is no reason for our pathways to intersect, as we are of different classes and grades. And yet, here you are. Your regard is not one driven by mere curiosity, it seems.”

Her lips part.

“Ooh. Is that your talent?”

“You know the answer and yet you ask to be cheeky. How boring.” _I can already see through this girl’s saccharine farce._ “I implore once again. Why are you so concerned with my existence? Is there a role you wish for me to play? A means in which I can be useful to you? I am not interested either way. You are obvious. Transparent. Blatant. A simpleton. You are boring.”

Her smile twitches, just the slightest bit.

“Wow,” she sighs, inhaling. “You’re one _fucking_ guy.”

She skips forward, placing her well-manicured hands on his chest.

“I think we’ll get along just swimmingly, senpai. After all, I think we’re pretty similar.” Her expression softens. “If there’s anyone who understands me, then surely it’s you, Ultimate Analyst, Kamukura Izuru- _senpai_.”

...

_Huh._

* * *

He has always known that he was particularly gifted for a child. He was always told as much, always expected of as much. He supposes that someone as himself was destined to never live a normal life from the start. When one is beloved by talent, those who lack it are attracted like ticks to cattle.

He has grown used to and weary of such inevitabilities. Even those extraordinary in one regard are predictable and expectably needy and clingy. People are all the same when it comes to what they want but do not have.

Parasitic. But predictable. And boring. So very, very boring. He has no need for such neediness. It is sickening.

His childhood friend is already such a dire case.

“Ah! Everyone’s so bright! It’s _beautiful_...!”

His worthless, useless childhood friend who coos over their class pictures like a starving dog over scraps of meat.

“They all look so happy, they’re shining... So, so beautiful... Isn’t it wonderful that everyone’s getting along so wonderfully?” he murmurs, marveling. “Aha... Hahaha... It’s just a shame that your face is dour as always, Izuru-kun.”

“I do not see why our class excites you so,” Kamukura replied drearily. “They are all the same. Wretched and clingy. If it were not for the Class Rep, they would be utterly directionless. And...”

_They are not kind to you._

“Doesn’t that just make the Class Rep even better?” his childhood friend asks, eyes wide. “Oh, Izuru-kun, you really should be more open to her. You likely won’t regret it.”

“Boring. So boring.” Kamukura’s gaze flickers to one where the entire class is posing and grinning. All of them save for two. Himself, as he was the one to take the picture. And save for his childhood friend, who had been out sick. This picture is their teacher’s favorite. “I could not be less interested, especially in regards to someone so narrow-minded.”

“Spoken like a shallow cynic,” the other sighs. “Izuru-kun, for a symbol of hope, despite being so incredible and splendid in your own right, you really are disappointing...”

There is nothing to say to that.

“Is there really nothing at Hope’s Peak that peaks your interest?”

There was still nothing to say.

“Ahhh. You might just be hopeless, then. How sad. That’s so horrible... Izuru-kun...”

_Is it really hopelessness? Is it really horrible? Is it really—?_

“Nagito.” It does not matter. He does not care. Not about any of that. “How are you feeling?”

He places his hand over Nagito’s flushed forehead, noting how his childhood friend’s wretched, wan cheeks darken from a rising blush.

“You are still feverish. I see.”

Nagito coughs so much that his eyes are watery. He manages to regain himself after Kamukura rubs his back.

“Aha. Hahaha. It’s not like it really matters. I’m still suspended,” he says, smile twisted. “Izuru-kun, seriously. Your school life is going to waste the longer you bother with me. Sensei wouldn’t like that.”

_You always say such things. As if such matters concerned me at all. They do not._

**_All these years and you still don’t understand, Nagito?_ **

“Boring. So boring. I have nothing better to do than tend to you, Nagito.”

“Aw, that’s definitely not true... Flatterer...” Nagito’s giggle is wheezy, painful, and anything but endearing. “You should be leading the world’s future with everyone else, Izuru-kun. You should be generating the _Ultimate Hope_.”

“Boring. So boring.”

He thinks about how easy it would be to twist his childhood friend’s thin, delicate neck where there had once been scars from rope.

_This person who talks of the future is someone who draws closer and closer to death, both willingly and inevitably._

* * *

“It’s booooooring, isn’t it?”

“...”

“Upupupupu. Senpai, despite that stoicism, you’re actually pretty easy to read, too.”

“...”

“You hate it, don’t you? This world. This _place_. That’s why you can’t even be bothered to perk up a little. You’re so gloomy. It’s so sad. So...despairing!”

“...”

“Senpai, we’re the same, aren’t we?”

“...”

Her arms lock around his own, and she presses up close.

“Aren’t we?”

* * *

“It really is a shame.”

“Such a tragedy.”

“What a waste.”

“What a horrible thing to happen.”

“It’s unfortunate. But...”

“...what’s going to be done about the child? Komaeda-san and his wife don’t have any relatives, do they?”

The chattering was obnoxious, especially when done in pseudo quiet whispers. The only one truly quiet because they truly did not want to be heard was Komaeda Nagito, sobbing softly behind the building.

He doesn’t even notice when he’s being approached. He’s curled into a ball. He’s trembling. He’s crying after hours of blankly nodding and acknowledging every adult who attended the funeral. He does stir when poked in the shoulder, but tears continue to spill over as his breath hitches.

“I...I... Izuru-kun...”

His face is frankly disgusting. Swollen and leaking from every orifice save for those reddened ears. The red-brown strands are stuck to his skin, damp from various fluids. It’s disgusting.

He sits beside him, staring up at him. Nagito’s disgusting face buries itself in his shoulder.

“I-I’m sorry... I-I’m so...sorry...”

Without really thinking, his fingers run through those red-brown strands. The ones that are dry are also soft to the touch. It’s not unpleasant, unlike everything else.

“Izuru-kun... U-Uu... S-Sorry...”

“It is fine.”

His parents had them interact in order to impress Nagito’s parents. Now, to continue interacting was utterly unnecessary.

And yet, he had no desire to be anywhere else besides the side of this person who clearly, truly needed him. Not for any particular reason than for the general, instinctual desire for companionship.

“It’s fine, Nagito.”

* * *

“It’s so boooooring,” she sighs. “And exhausting. Watching a bunch of needy self-serving fucks tail each other. It really makes me so sick that I could just throooow up!”

She’s pressing into his side. She reeks of sickeningly sweet strawberries. He inwardly thinks of Nagito, who just smelled of sterile hospital rooms and soap. These two are nothing alike. It goes without saying that Nagito’s presence is preferred.

_But._

Nagito would not cling to him like this. Not anymore. Not when he’s been deemed a disappointment.

“Don’t you wanna see it burn to the ground?” she asks. “Wouldn’t it be way fucking better if everything just burned to the fucking ground?”

“...mm...”

He thinks of how Nagito’s eyes had sparkled when they gazed upon this school for the first time. How his pale hands tightly gripped his acceptance letter. How his knees quaked and bucked.

_Nagito had not always cared so much about talent. This wretched place ruined him. So, perhaps._

“Perhaps that would be better,” he murmured. “If it was just reduced to ash.”

It would not make much of a difference, that said. Hope’s Peak Academy was emblematic of the world’s follies and frivolities, but it was merely the refined product. Burning the campus to the ground would not dissipate the poison already sunken into the earth.

But it would be damn satisfying.

_Wouldn’t it._

Especially with how this school had affected his Nagito and warped him for the worst.

Her smile is a knowing one. He does not return it.

* * *

She gives him another knowing smile when he sees her latched onto a certain Tsumiki Mikan’s arm in passing. He does not return that, either.

“Has Junko been harassing you?”

He twitches, but his expression remains unchanged.

“It is but a minor trifle, Matsuda Yasuke.”

Matsuda’s look darkens, but he shrugs his shoulders over it.

“If you say so. But don’t let her hear you say that.”

“It does not matter. Nothing she does will ever matter to me, Matsuda Yasuke.”

“Sure, sure.” He waves his hand. “But you have been in a worse fucking mood lately. More agitated. You’re usually somewhat complacent so what the hell’s your problem?”

“...nothing. Nothing at all.”

Matsuda, predictably, looks unimpressed.

“Sure. Nothing. Komaeda’s suspension is going to end pretty soon, huh?”

“Yes. It is.”

“Tell him to come visit me right away, will you? Dumbass still doesn’t have a cell phone, so...”

“I will. Of course. You are his doctor, after all.” He speaks the words lowly. “So of course. I will.”

Matsuda snorted, averting his gaze back to the open manga in his hand.

“No need to be such a bitch about it. I swear.” A pause. “You really, really should stay away from Junko. With how irritable you’ve been? She’ll get under your skin big time.”

“...”

“But, you know.” Matsuda flips the page. “She’s actually told me about how you more or less let her chat your fucking ear off. That’s curious.” He shuts the book. “Stay the hell away from her. For your own sake.”

“...” Kamukura tilts his head. “What an odd thing to say about your childhood friend.”

“I _mean_ it,” he hissed. “It’d be a pain in the fucking ass if you got caught up in one of her schemes. If not for yourself, don’t get involved in something dumb for Komaeda’s sake.”

He does not dislike Matsuda Yasuke, not truly. Of all other elite students, himself excluded, he is one of the very few who tolerates and even indulgences Nagito’s rambles. Nagito especially adores Matsuda Yasuke, even compared to his adoration for all elite students. He does not dislike him, for that. He understands the kind of person Matsuda Yasuke is, and on some level, he does appreciate it.

Matsuda Yasuke is not the type to bring up sentimental matters lightly. He knows this. That said.

_That said._

“She is not wrong about every little thing she says,” Kamukura finds himself saying. “Not when it comes to Hope’s Peak.”

_You are not spared from any of that, kind as you may be. You’re complacent._

**_You have no right to talk about what’s best for Nagito when you’re complacent._ **

“Kamukura,” Matsuda responds warningly. “Look, I’m serious...”

“You bore me. I have no interest in furthering this conversation.”

“Urgh.” Matsuda rolled his eyes. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t fucking warn you.”

_From someone like you, I really don’t need to hear it._

* * *

Truth be told, he’s never much cared for Hope’s Peak from the start.

Perhaps that’s privileged of him. But it was how he felt. It had always been how he felt.

Especially back then. And especially when ‘back then’ had to change because of it.

“Kamukura Izuru-kun, was it? That’s a pretty interesting name. How do you spell it?”

“Is there something you want?”

“Testy, testy.” The man smiles wryly, tugging down his hat. “I’ve heard things about you. So I decided to size you up for myself. Nothing wrong with that, riiiight?”

Of course, he had already known who this person was. Everyone did. To be approached was an experience most could only dream of. He is aware of the fact that his classmates both admire and resent him, and this will only fester those feelings further.

But it’s not those menial nobodies he’s concerned about.

“Hm. You seem to have a lot on your mind, kid,” the man hummed.

“You seem slightly buzzed,” Kamukura retorted. “Your collar is wrinkled, there are stains on your shirt that you have poorly hidden behind your jacket, your face is not consistently shaven. You keep tugging down your hat because you are nervous, even though your smile is so plastered that you must have been in this situation several times over already. Are you really a representative of Hope’s Peak Academy...? It seems the school is more stressful than paradisiacal if you’re any indication. Kizakura-san, was it?”

“Yep.” Kizakura’s grin widened as he held up a hand. “That’s me. And no doubt about it, you’re the real deal.”

_Real deal. As if talent is something you can fake._

“With all due respect, I have no interest in enrolling,” he said. “My childhood friend is sickly and susceptible. I have no intention of leaving him to the world’s mercy.”

_Nagito suffers enough as it is. But... Once he hears about this..._

“I would like for you to report that I am not what you had assumed, that you were disappointed,” he said, lowly so that no one else would hear. “I am not a desirable addition. Something along those lines.”

Kizakura’s grin twisted.

“You don’t want your friend to feel guilty, eh? Remarkably loyal kid, I see.” With that, he pulls out his card. “I can respect that. But, you really do have a place at Hope’s Peak. There’s no one quite like you, Kamukura-kun.”

_Adults say that all the time. What boring, worthless words._

“Besides,” Kizakura adds cheekily. “Who knows? That friend of yours might be the winner of the lottery.”

Kamukura takes the card to be polite, nodding and saying nothing more. Even with those words, he had full intention of throwing it away once out of sight.

* * *

“Izuru-kun!”

Of course, once he had the opportunity, it was as if the other had been summoned.

“Nagito.”

He hides the card expertly, in such a way that even Nagito wouldn’t notice. Nagito, who was flushed with sparkling eyes. Against his paling hair, such features stood out even more.

“I-I heard you were approached by a scout for Hope’s Peak!” he burst out. “Is that really true?”

“It is. But I may not be accepted, Nagito.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Nagito takes his hands and squeezes them tightly. “Someone as amazing as you? You _belong_ there, Izuru-kun!”

_I would rather be by your side above all else, Nagito._

He only sighs.

“We shall see. But please do not concern yourself for now, Nagito.” Nagito’s frown deepens, but he squeaks when Kamukura pulls a hand free to ruffle his hair. “You have not overexerted yourself, have you?”

“Izuru-kun, I’m not five...”

“If you collapse again, it will be worrying.”

“You worry too much...”

“You need to take care, Nagito.”

“Uu...”

Yes, regardless of what would happen, he had decided that he would remain by Komaeda Nagito’s side, always.

(And of course, when Nagito showed up on his doorstep, with both an acceptance letter and medical papers in his trembling grip, Kamukura knew his fate was sealed, and after reading through both as Nagito fidgeted anxiously at his table, he resented Hope’s Peak Academy a little more.)

* * *

“Yep! It’s pretty damn sickening! How do you think the reserve students keep themselves from rioting, I wonder?”

“...”

_The reserve course...are ticks. So I do not care for them. They are not like Nagito._

“That saaaaaid, our fellow student body is so carefree that it’s mind-numbingly boring. Just pass the exams and you’re fiiiine, jeez, how’s that supposed to shape them for the future? It’s just going to make them duller and duller. We need spice! Something like—like a burst!”

“...”

_A burst...perhaps that would be more interesting. As it is, there is a precarious, wretched system in place. One that Nagito is swayed by and fixated on. Something so dreary and cold..._

He’s so bored by it.

“More than anything, I want to see the Ultimate Hope spring forth,” Nagito would say.

_Under these circumstances? Where the strife and struggles of people are muffled and suffocated while the talented few skirt by with little to no effort? And Nagito thinks **I’m** disappointing?_

“Even if you don’t say anything, I know you agree with me,” she says, chortling. “That’s why you agreed to meet me here, right? This is the old main building. Some students still meet up here for club activities. Right now, we’re going to meet a very particular group.”

Kamukura perks, and he can already guess.

“The student council. They do not strike me as the type to be terribly interested in what you have to say.”

“They’re not,” she said. “Which is why we’re going to play with them another way. Muku-nee should be finished setting things up. I definitely want you to see this, senpai.”

Kamukura blinked, and then, he can viscerally feel the chill brought about by the atmosphere and underlying meaning to her words.

“What are you talking about?”

Enoshima Junko spins around on her heel, and the smile on her face is something that cannot be described any more than the gaping maw of the void.

* * *

He can’t help but recall that time in middle school that Nagito had been missing. When he asked around, his classmates shrugged. There were mutters about how maybe he ran away—or maybe ran off to die. He called the police, but was shrugged off by them, as well. He wasn’t Nagito’s family, after all, and maybe he just ran away? What did it matter?

He sees Nagito on the news, and he does not hesitate to rush to the hospital he’s being held at. He is not allowed to see him at that point, either. Brushed off. Disregarded.

_Worthless._

When Nagito was released, he did not wait a second before taking him into his arms.

“Sorry,” Nagito mumbled, as if embarrassed. “I’m really, really sorry for worrying you, Izuru-kun. But... Look!” He shows him the lottery ticket in his bone-white grip. “I... I-I won, Izuru-kun! Isn’t that amazing?”

“...I am just glad to see you safe and sound. We should go home, Nagito.”

Nagito giggled, clinging to him as they took the train back. He kept smiling and laughing, grinning wildly as he rambled about what happened. No one would have thought much about it, but the way Nagito’s breath sometimes hitched and wheezed...

“Oh, oh, but sometimes they’d watch TV,” Nagito would say, referring to his kidnapper. “I got to see such a wonderful speech given by Headmaster Kirigiri of Hope’s Peak Academy!”

Nagito’s eyes are sparkling.

“...”

“I’m sorry for taking to long to get back to you, though, Izuru-kun,” he added hurriedly. “Um, I wasn’t exactly fed...so I was in pretty bad state when the police finally found me...”

“...”

“I just... I didn’t want you to worry, which was why I headed off on my own...but I really, really, really messed that up, Izuru-kun, I’m sorry...”

“...”

“B-But it wasn’t so bad! I, um... It’s good, actually...” Nagito trailed off. “If you had been with me that day and if you had been kidnapped as well... That would’ve been the worst. I never would want to drag you down, Izuru-kun.”

“Have you been getting rest, Nagito?”

“A-Actually, I’ve been too agitated to sleep well for a while, but...” Nagito yawns. “For some reason, I’m super drowsy now. Maybe it’s because I’m with Izuru-kun.”

“I will let you know when we reach our stop, so it is alright, Nagito.”

“Mm...”

Nagito slumps into his shoulder. His eyelids start to droop. Tenderly, Kamukura strokes his hair. He is paler than before. Frailer than before.

“It is alright, Nagito.”

* * *

It was funny. How easily they turned on each other when it started with just one person lashing out. It had been so remarkably easy. So very, very easy.

Enoshima Junko hums as she watches, and he watches as well.

_The Ultimates are meant to lead the future, but they’re so easy to misdirect. How pitiful it is. And, yet._

“Pretty entertaining too, am I right?” she asks, grinning widely before gasping. “Oh! Wow! Look at all that blood! Damn, that one was bruuuuutal.”

“How fragile harmony in this world really is,” he murmured. “Well, it is unsurprising.”

_And Nagito called them symbols of hope..._

He can see how twisted, warped, and wretched these beings tearing each other apart really were. His own lips twist. How deep and effortlessly this display of despair runs.

“Is that excitement, senpai?”

“It is disappointment.”

* * *

“So beautiful! So bright! So splendid, so wonderful! You are all just so...”

“Dude just shuuuuut up. No one wants to hear that!”

Nagito’s mouth shuts obediently. With a harsh ‘tch’, their classmate turns away, but he is not the only one who looks upon Nagito with disdain and contempt.

“Komaeda-kun,” their teacher says gently. “The things you say are just a little...”

“Aha. Haha. It’s because I’m trash compared to them. Right, right?”

“Oh, you _definitely_ shouldn’t say that...”

“But isn’t it true?”

“Of course it’s not.”

Kamukura’s eyes narrowed sharply.

_“Seriously why does that freak have to be so weird?”_

_“It’s sooooo creepy!”_

_“His words are akin to toxic fumes.”_

_“Komaeda-kun...really is uncomfortable to be around, sometimes...”_

_“He’s not a bad person, but...”_

_“He just needs to stay the hell away from us.”_

“Sensei. Nidai Nekomaru and Owari Akane are fighting again.”

“Ahhh, I should probably make sure those two don’t wreck anything the gardening club made... This conversation isn’t over, Komaeda-kun!”

“Good luck, sensei.”

She brushes past them, worked up into a huff. He regards her coldly before turning to Nagito. Nagito who seems much more tired than before.

“Aha... Haha, thanks for saving me, Izuru-kun.” He offers a pitiful smile. “Sensei is really kind, isn’t she? But, she...really doesn’t understand...”

“She is willfully ignorant.”

“I wouldn’t go that far...”

“She only speaks to you in regards to how you’re treated. Not the others.”

“Well, it is more my fault, right? I’m so bad at conveying myself... I really am worthless...”

“I understand you fine.” _The others are at fault. They are the truly worthless ones._ “Right?”

Nagito’s cheeks darken.

“Izuru-kun’s my oldest, dearest, and only friend. That’s for sure.” His smile widens more, but it also strains more. “But, Izuru-kun... Don’t you think you’re too attached to me?”

“...”

“I mean,” he inhales. “Compared to the others, I really am a nobody. You shouldn’t limit yourself to me. Um. I’d just be happy to see you happy, Izuru-kun, even if it’s from afar.”

“...”

“We’re friends. I just want what’s best for you.”

“...”

_Time means nothing. It is about effort._

“I only want you, Nagito.”

Nagito sputtered a bit, flustering.

“You really should mature one of these days, Izuru-kun...! You can’t keep saying that!”

_What else should I say?_

“Mm.”

_How compared to you, everyone else is akin to insects and murk? How hope means nothing to me so much as the way you light up at the mention of it? How despair, too, is nothing until I see the way your gaze falls as you’re ostracized by people you love and admire time and time again? Those wretched people who fail to appreciate the incredible gift they’re given with zero effort on their part?_

“It remains how I feel, Nagito.”

“Geez...” Nagito frowns. “That’s so troubling. Sensei’s right. You should make other friends.”

“...”

_Other people are nothing. I feel nothing._

* * *

In the end, there’s not much to feel. These are, for all intents and purposes, complete strangers who are suffering. Is he really supposed to care?

“...boring...so boring...”

“Awww!” Enoshima whines. “You’re leaving already? There’s still a few left to go!”

“I have seen enough of these nobodies.”

“Nobodies?” She blinks, batting her eyelashes. “Oh, my, senpai, you aren’t suggesting...”

“Take from that what you will,” Kamukura said. “Are you going to stop me?”

“Noooope.” She shakes her head. “I’m happy with the amount of attention you’ve given me thus far, senpai. I hope to engage you more and more down the line. This is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

_I only need one friend._

“How much despair do you plan to cause, Enoshima Junko?”

“Enough to throw the whole world into chaos, preferably!”

“...”

_“My luck works in a very specific pattern, Izuru-kun! Good luck begets bad luck begets good luck begets bad luck begets good luck! So, you really should be more careful around me.”_

_“Understood. I will be careful.”_

_“Admittedly, I’m not sure what good luck could balance out the bad luck of losing Izuru-kun, but... You know, Izuru-kun, the more people struggle, the stronger they get...”_

_“Is that so.”_

_“I-It is so! What I mean is... You shouldn’t give up regardless of what my bad luck throws at you... You’re an Ultimate, now, so you should be able to overcome any despair and...bring about a bright and shining hope, right?”_

_“I suppose.”_

_“Do you understand, Izuru-kun...?”_

_“Of course I do, Nagito.”_

“Good luck with that, I suppose, Enoshima Junko.”

“Aww, thanks!”

With that, he leaves.

* * *

There is only one place he can return to.

Because how late in the hour it is, much is obfuscated by darkness, but he knows the code to the door by heart. Even if he did not, he would be able to tell from the buttons that were the most worn under his fingertips. The door is opens. He steps inside, shutting the door behind him and locking it.

Nagito sleeps peacefully, the picture of serenity. Such a contrast to the violent exhibition of before. Nagito sleeps, unknowing and untouched.

He wishes to keep it that way. His childhood friend is one he wants to keep protected. But, above all else...

He wants to keep him close.

So much so that he finds himself crawling into the other’s bed.

“Mmm... Izuru-kun...?”

Nagito stirs from his slumber. He opens his mouth to apologize, but rather than saying the word, he just ends up pressing closer to Nagito’s meager warmth and nuzzles into Nagito’s soft hair.

“W-What...?” Nagito stiffens, but with time, he does relax. His heart is pounding. Kamukura can tell that it’s pounding. “I-Izuru-kun, um... Is something wrong? It’s so late. Why are you here?”

 _It’s rather ironic,_ he can’t help but think. _I thought of Nagito on death’s doorstep, but it turns out that he is incomparable to a corpse._

“Mm...”

“Izuru-kun?”

Nagito shivers when lips brush against his nape. It’s surprisingly warm. Nagito is warm. He’s especially warm to the touch.

“Izuru-kun...? Did something happen...?”

“It does not matter. Not in the slightest. But allow me to stay here for the night, Nagito.”

“O-Oh. Um... O-Okay...”

Just like this, he can relax with ease. Nagito tense, but he, too, unwinds from careful strokes of his wrists and shoulders.

“Izu...ru-kun...”

“It is alright, Nagito.”

“Hah...”

“It’s fine.”

* * *

When Komaeda finally managed to return to class, the reserve course was rioting and he had heard some awful, wretched, _despairing_ whispers.

Komaeda pushes open the door, heart leaping in his throat, and the only one to greet him is...who else.

“Nagito.”

“I-Izuru-kun.” He stiffens and then he swallows. “Where is...everyone else?”

“They are out. I volunteered to stay behind, of course, because I knew you were to return today.”

_Something feels...wrong._

“Izuru-kun, I heard murmurs of something strange. Of Ultimates...killing each other? For despair? And also...murmurs of other...things...that this school is doing.” Komaeda hesitates, but his childhood friend only draws closer. “Where is the rest of our class? What could they possibly be out doing under these circumstances?”

“They are out because I had them leave.”

_Something feels wrong, but it’s Izuru-kun...right?_

“Ah. I suppose we should have you visit Matsuda Yasuke.” His cheeks are cupped. Kamukura Izuru’s hands are gentle and warm as always. His gaze, however, seems strange. The tone may not be perceptively different to the untrained ear, but to Komaeda, who has known him for most of his life at this point... “How inconvenient. But I do think he would be rather busy at this moment.”

“I... I don’t really want to bother Matsuda-kun.” _I’m more worried about other things._ “Sensei, too? Where is she?”

“Nagito, what would you say marks a true hope?”

Komaeda snapped up at that.

“An absolute good,” he answered immediately. “Something that overcomes any darkness or despair and engulfs the world in a dazzling, blinding light. Something that only grows stronger and blooms more beautifully in the face of adversity.”

“Adversity. So if one is unchallenged, they are not true hope.”

“Pushing forward in spite of obstacles or hindrances is part of being human,” Komaeda found himself murmuring, now self-conscious of the way Izuru’s thumbs traced his cheeks. “I’ve told you all this before. Why do you ask? Is this because of the reserves rioting?”

_...rioting because...of ridiculous audacious things that couldn’t possibly be true...right?_

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it? Adversity to overcome.” Izuru tugs him forward, letting him see out the window. “Obstacles and hindrances. Let us see how others will persevere. That might be interesting, for the ground beneath the Ultimates to crumble and for them to still crawl out on top over the withering masses.”

“Symbols of hope...would never lose to deception and despair.” Komaeda shivered. “These impertinent beings are but mere stepping stones... They’re also being misled. How miserable...despairing... They could never ever reach hope like this. Not that they were capable from the start...”

“Despair. Hope.” Izuru exhaled. “So boring. But it might be something you want to see, Nagito. And that is all I care for.”

“Izuru-kun...” Komaeda grimaced, and squeezed his eyes shut. “You haven’t...fallen into despair, have you?”

“Nothing about me has changed, Nagito.”

Izuru takes his hand, and he squeezes.

“Nothing at all.”

Trembling, Komaeda squeezes back.


End file.
